The Bishounen House
by Cynical Skittles
Summary: Several well-known game & anime bishounen living under one roof the crossover comedy from hell. Chapter 1 up!


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Quack Experimental Crossover: The Bishounen House

Disclaimer: **We, cynicalskittles, do not own any of the characters, dead or alive, real or unreal, that you will see mentioned in this story nor are we making any type of financial profit off of it. This is just the warped collaboration of two fucked up imaginations and too many hours spent on the phone. Besides, it's just a story, deal with it.**

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***AUTHORS' NOTE*** Yes, it's what you've all been waiting for! The first installment of our great literary genius: The Bishounen House! A place where all your favorite hot bishounens come together in an alluring mix of action, adventure, sex, drugs, lies, AU, OOC'ness, but most importantly boy on boy situations! Oh yeah, a lot of that in here so don't act surprised when you come upon some of it. As always praise is welcome, but we do enjoy the occasional flame or two, so don't be shy! Also, questions, comments, and suggestions can be sent to use via the e-mail:

cynicalskittles@yahoo.com

***STORY KEY***

A "C" in bold italics denotes Cynical speaking/commentary

An "S" in bold italics denotes Skittles speaking/commentary

And "CS" in _italics_ together denotes both authors speaking/commentary

These little thingies right here ****** indicate flashbacks

And this right here (----) means character commentary

And this cute little guy right here --- ,l,,,(O.o),,,l, means FUCK YOU!

Well, that's it. Let's move on to the story, shall we? The long awaited…

Chapter One - Rooms for Rent

Once upon a time, in the long, long ago, (i.e. 1980s) there lived a young bishounen named IIpallazzo. 

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"That's Lord IIpallazzo to you."

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**__**

(S) **Whatever…** Anyway IIpallazzo was far from your average bishounen. Aside from his silver hair, freakish golden cat eyes, and ridiculously huge shoulders, he was an assassin, a pimp, illegal weapons dealer, drug runner, a bootlegger, moon shiner, a foreign dignitary, guitarist, and an accomplished high ranking officer in the secret ideological organization of ACROSS. He was once lord and master of an entire city, the city of Furoka!

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"Ha!" IIpallazzo smirks.

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Until it blew up.

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"Hmph." He frowns.

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**(C)** **Oh, get over it.** And although IIpallazzo had accomplished many great things in his life and was indeed a very rich man, he still felt the need for more. More money, that is. 

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"Damn straight!" 

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**__**

(CS) **Will you shut the hell up and let us narrate?! **So, after much pondering, soul searching, and outright temper tantrums worthy of a five year boy, whose mother told him he couldn't have that shiny new Digimon action figure, IIpallazzo decided to invest the one thing guaranteed to rake in oodles of cash. And that financial investment was real estate.

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"I do _not_ have temper tantrums." IIpallazzo scowls.

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**__**

(C) **Yes, you do.** Why real estate you ask? Because any snaggle-toothed hick with shit for brains, who hunts possums with his boom stick in the backwoods of Kentucky knows that he needs a home to call his own. I mean, where's he going to store all those possums?

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"In the back of his pick-up truck?"

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**__**

(S) **Hmm, that is a possibility…**But how's he going to cook the possums without a stove?

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"On the engine of his pick-up truck!" IIpallazzo grins, proud of his answer.

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**__**

(S) **You frighten me sometimes.** So, mind made up, IIpallazzo went on ahead and attained his real estate license and bought a few properties within The City and its surrounding areas. He hired carpenters, painters, plumbers, landscapers, and interior decorators alike to help make his rental properties the best around. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week you could hear them: sawing, hammering, mowing, cursing and complaining. Oh yes, lots of complaining.

"When the hell are we going to get a lunch break around here?!" yelled an indignant painter.

"Yeah! And I ain't seen hide nor hair of a paycheck!" added a plumber.

"What the fuck gives?!" shouted another. 

"Is there a problem here?" All previous bitching ceases as IIpallazzo approaches. His great frame creates a shadow falling over the disgruntled workers, blocking out the sun itself. 

"Lawd, but 'dat boy sho' gots big shoulduhs" breathed one in awe. 

If there was any reason to assume an uprising, it was quelled under the intense gaze of IIpallazzo's eyes. The man glared out into the sea of rebellious workers, daring any one of them to challenge his authority.

Suddenly an idiot - uh we mean, the painter, came charging forward.

"Yeah, I gots me a problem." He halted and spit, shifting on his feet to achieve a look of supremacy. "What's the deal with you not allowing lunch breaks around here?" 

IIpallazzo regarded him coolly. "You have plenty of time to eat -"

"And another thing." the man cut in. **_(C)_** **Shit is he crazy?!** "We've been working this damn job _unpaid_ for the past four weeks! I mean shit." he laughed. "I don't know about you, but I've got bills to pay, fuckin' kids to feed." Several workers nodded their heads in agreement. "You gots any explanations for this, Mr. Money Man?" 

IIpallazzo spoke again. "You will be paid for your services upon completion of your work. If you - "

"See?" The man cut in once more. **_(S) God damn! He must want to die!_** "I ain't tying to hear that shit, man! What the fuck do you think this - "

"_If_!" IIpallazzo's patience was wearing thin. "If you don't like it then you can leave." His glare left no room for argument. 

The painter backed down, all his previous haughtiness gone. He turned back to look at his fellow co-workers for support. None was forthcoming. Defeated, he turned back to IIpallazzo and frowned.

"Shit…" he huffed. "You know what? Fuck this! You can take this job and shove it up your ass!" he spit on the ground at IIpallazzo's feet one last time for emphasis. 

He turned and stormed off, shoving several of his co-workers aside, as they could only stand and gape at him for such willful audacity in front of such a great and intimidating man. So entranced they were that none failed to notice their employer reach into his many robes and pull out a gleaming metal object. 

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"My bazooka?!" IIpallazzo hoped.

**__**

(C) Well actually it was supposed to be a pistol…

"Nah! Fuck that! I want my bazooka!"

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(_S) You're such a fuckin' brat, IIpallazzo._

"Am not!" he argues.

**__**

(S) Are too!

"Am not!"

**__**

(S) Are t -

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(C) Will you two shut the fuck up?! It's a bazooka, okay? Damn...Like I was saying:

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IIpallazzo took full advantage of his workers' distraction taking careful aim with the bazooka along the departing man's back. **BANG!** The bazooka's blast ripped through the site, shattering windows, knocking over ladders, trashcans, and even workers themselves. So loud was the blast that the birds in the trees panicked and took flight, pelting unsuspecting peoples with their birdy excrement. 

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"Ugh." IIpallazzo gags. "How unsanitary." 

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**__**

(C) I know, right? As for the painter? Well…the workers could on stare in unparalleled horror as the body of their fellow, no wait, ex co-worker now littered the many nooks and crannies of the work site. Everywhere! Bits of painter in the trees, on the walls, in the cement mixer, even on this guy's shoulders, right here.

"AAAH!" he screamed, frantically throwing off his jacket. 

"Well." The crazy dictator/murderer coughed, drawing attention back to him. "If there aren't any more complaints I suggest all of you get back to work. NOW." He turned and left, leaving his employees with the grisly duty of disposing of the body… uh, bits and questioning the sanity of their boss.

"Shit, man, shit! Can he do that?!" the plumber shrieked.

"Hell naw!" shouted a landscaper.

"Shouldn't one of us c-c call the police?" whimpered one interior decorator.

"And end up like motherfucker over there sloshing around in the mixer?!" someone said. "Fuck naw."

"Well, w-w what should we do?" quavered another. 

They all looked at each other questioningly. There was only one thing they could do:

They went back to work.

**__**

(S) Whoo, man! That was fucked up. Anyway, many weeks later the work renovating IIpallazzo's rental properties was finally done. IIpallazzo, having paid off his work-beaten employees, many of whom were now seeking psychiatric counseling, decided to take a grand tour of his soon to be greatest financial endeavor to date. And what a tour, it was! Apartments with hot _and_ cold running water, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a fully equipped kitchen with a gas range stove, a cable TV and internet connection, washer and dryer in the apartment itself, and (for an additional $250 a month *****cough cough*), an ADT security system! 

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(C) *appreciatively* Damn! And that was just the apartments! The houses were even better! Set on two and a half acres of land, with red brick siding, you know, not that cheap stucco or vinyl shit, three living levels not including the attic, great spiral staircases, a fully furnished kitchen _and_ kitchenette in the basement, 3 plus bathrooms, numerous bedrooms, a rec room, a pool, hot tub, a two car garage, beautiful hardwood floors, TV!, Internet!, gas chamber, war room, death pit -"

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(S) Death pit?! …The fuck?!?

"- all of this and more, set in a rich suburban neighborhood; where the streets are gun free, drug free, pimp free, and ho free and the yuppies roam wild, liberated, and out in the open, unhampered with feelings of unspeakable fear of running into those "other people". You know the ones were talking about.

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"No, I don't." IIpallazzo questions. "Who?"

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(C) Oh, you know… *smirks knowingly*

"No, I really don't."

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(S) Sure you do… *snickers quietly*

"What the fuck are you two talking about?! What 'other people' -" A stop. A pause. "Oh."

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(CS) *fall into a fit of uncontrollable laughter*

"You guys are sick." IIpallazzo scowls. "You know you're going to get in trouble for this, right?"

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(C) Oh, who cares? Somebody had to say it….

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(S) …It needed to be said…

**__**

(CS) …You know we're right!

"Now that's enough!" He roars. "I will not listen to this blatant discriminatory shit any longer! You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Everyone, including midgets has a right to rent my properties!"

**__**

(CS) _ ?!

IIpallazzo looks about, genuinely confused. "What? That's what you guys were talking about, right?"

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(C) *stands up* I'm going to get something to drink.

"What? What did I say?!?"

**__**

(S) Hey, you want me to wait until you get back?

**__**

(C) Nah, go on ahead and finish this shit up.

"WHAT DID I SAY!?" The ex ACROSS commander demanded.

**__**

(C) *ignores him and walks towards the door*

"Okay! Fine then!" IIpallazzo fumes. "Go ahead and be a bitch!"

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(C) *scowls* ,l,,,(O.o),,,l, *slams the door*

"Come back here!" He yells. "No one disrespects the Great IIpallaz-"

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(S) Okay! On with the story! IIpallazzo was very proud of his accomplishments and couldn't wait to open up his properties to the many suckers - oops! I mean, uh prospective clients, so he could start raking in the money. But there was one tiny unanswered question that had plagued IIpallazzo though this whole ordeal. And that burning question was - 

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"Just who the fuck am I going let live in my tenements?!" 

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**__**

(S) Geez, just take the words right out of my mouth, why don't you? But the old skeeza here is right, folks. I mean, you can't just let any motherfucker move up in your house. What if they're crazy; they could take a knife to your ass while you're sleeping, dismember your corpse and leave it out for the trash man the next morning.

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"Somehow I highly doubt that would happen."

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They could be nasty; leaving their stank underwear in the kitchen sink, reaching into the cereal box with the hand that they scratched their butt with, drinking from the orange juice container with their crusty ass lips - 

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"You sound like you speak from experience. Someone you know, perhaps?"

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**__**

(S) Uh, no…Of course not. Anyway, moving on… So to quell his growing concern over who was to inhabit his precious dwellings, IIpallazzo to try an experiment. 

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"An experiment? What kind of experiment?"

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An experiment so original…

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"Um, excuse me?"

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…so crazy…

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"Uh, hello?"

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…so damn stupid…

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"Bitch, I'm talking to you - GAH!" *gets kicked in his head*

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…that it'd be talked of by generations to come!

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"Can some one please explain to me just what the fuck is going on?!"

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**__**

(C) It's quite simple really: You place an add for one of your tenements in the newspaper, wait for people to reply, interview them, and then if they pass, set them up together for an 'X' amount of time to see how well they fair, and if they're cool they get to have their own place. 

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Rubs the giant knot left by Cynical's boot. "Well that doesn't sound too bad. Why all the drama?"

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**__**

(CS) *:grin evilly* 

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"What? WHAT?!"

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**__**

(S) Stay tuned! ^_^

Why all the drama, he ask. Just how the hell is he going to know who's eligible to pass if he doesn't monitor their progress himself? Have you figured it out yet? He's got to live with them, of course!

IIpallazzo: What?! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Cynical: Next time on The Bishounen House: "Here Come the Boarders!"

Skittles: Don't miss it!


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